She glanced at her history text and quickly closed it. Then she sat there staring at me—or staring through me. Most people would have been put off by it, but I sensed she was struggling with the possibility of telling me something very serious, so I didn’t want to interrupt the argument she was probably having with herself.
All the time we had been roommates and shared schoolwork, I avoided asking her any questions about her personal life. She dropped hints about herself here and there, but I deliberately avoided picking up on any and starting a more detailed conversation. Whenever you ask someone something most would consider personal, you inevitably begin to reveal personal things about yourself, and until now, I had been on constant vigil to make sure I didn’t give even the slightest hints about what had happened to me, especially slipping and revealing that I had a twin sister. Despite all I had been through, including the therapy, it wasn’t easy to be on constant guard, measuring every sentence, every word I uttered to anyone. All my life, even during my horrible incarceration in Anthony Cabot’s basement, it was nearly impossible to think of myself and not think about Haylee simultaneously. The words my sister Haylee were practically engraved on my tongue.
I never doubted that was almost literally true. Even back when I was only eight and we were finally in a public school and not homeschooled, I mentioned her more than she mentioned me when I talked with other girls. Despite how alike Mother insisted we should be and were in her mind, in my mind, Haylee was stronger and especially wiser when it came to interacting with others our age. Common phrases for me were My sister Haylee says or My sister Haylee thinks. Whatever I was asked to do, my first thought was, Would Haylee do it? I’d even answer with Haylee wouldn’t do that. Or I’ll see if Haylee wants to do it.
Now, ironically, I believed I had to filter her out of my daily thinking in order for me to survive. Every morning when I woke up, I recited my mantra: Don’t mention or think of Haylee. It was only natural for me to study the way others looked at me whenever I spoke, to see if they somehow had seen through me and sensed that I was keeping a very big secret from them. Never telling anyone that I had a twin sister, a perfect replica of myself, was certainly a very big secret.
Although Claudia was so introverted and shy, especially when it came to meeting new people and making friends, and although she was unsure of herself when it came to socializing, I couldn’t help but suspect she was a great deal more perceptive than she made out to be or anyone thought she was. I often caught her looking at me intently at times and thinking deeply about something I had done or said. Perhaps there was something of herself that she recognized in me, or perhaps I wasn’t as invulnerable when it came to protecting my secrets as I thought I was. Maybe there was something I did or was doing that stirred her suspicions. You can’t live so intimately with someone without exposing something about yourself. The question was simply how perceptive was she?
Right now, I was expecting a question about myself, something she had sensed, but she surprised me.
“Despite what everyone thinks here, I’m not a virgin,” she said. She didn’t say it with any note of self-praise, nor did she say it like a confession to a priest. “Maybe I did it to get back at my grandmother or my mother. I can’t think of any other reason.”
“You didn’t like the boy?”
“He was a
ll right, I suppose, when it came to looks, but I didn’t have that special affection for him I guess you should have. Everything I’ve read or heard told me it should be one of the most important events of your life, even for boys.”
“You mean you weren’t even that attracted to him? Didn’t he arouse you first? I mean, didn’t he . . .”
“Physically, yes. I don’t know if I was that attractive to him. I think I was sort of an accomplishment. I certainly wasn’t infatuated with him the way Marcy is with this Rob Brian. I didn’t fantasize about him, exactly. I fantasized about the act.”
“So for you it was more like experimenting?”
“No. I think it falls more properly into what school psychologists call ‘acting out.’ Anger and frustration brought me to it.” She thought a moment. “Maybe it involved a little experimenting, too. After all, I had only what I read and saw in movies to go by. I wasn’t exactly anyone’s particular confidante in the schools I attended. And besides, that would be secondhand anyway. I’d say this comes under one of the things you have to do yourself.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Last year. That’s the real reason I’m here and not in the school I was in. The boy talked about it, and so did the girls when they found out. Somehow the story got to the dean, Mrs. Mintz, and she informed my mother that there were rumors she should check out. She had to be pretty explicit about the rumors, I’m sure. My mother is as good as any CIA interrogator.”
“Really.” I smiled. “No one would ever guess any of this.”
I paused, thinking she was as good at hiding her secret as I was at hiding mine. We both had a need to keep a part of ourselves under lock and key. Serendipity had made us roommates.
“I was wondering why your father seemed so intense when you first arrived. I don’t think I saw him smile once.”
“He was still quite angry. My grandmother had heart failure over the rumors.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, she might have been having it anyway, but of course, my mother blames it on me.”
“Did she die?”
“Not yet. She’s in assisted living. I’m expressly forbidden to go see her, not that I was rushing out to do it.”
There was a long moment of silence between us. It felt like a dark cavern into which all her words of confession had fallen. This was the moment when I knew that she, like anyone else, would now expect me to reveal my sexual experience, a sort of tit for tat. My most forward and adventurous was with my first real boyfriend, Matt Tesler. I was afraid of talking about my sexual relations with him. I was sure one thing would lead to another and I would eventually reveal how Haylee had fooled him into thinking she was me and then had sex with him the night we had a party and she and her boyfriend had gotten Matt high. Although that wasn’t Haylee’s intention, she had kept me a virgin.
I didn’t ever want to think of how the sexual threats that occurred in Anthony Cabot’s basement changed that. It was a nightmare, and nightmares are just bad dreams. I’d have to live with that theory or not live at all.
I wondered now if Claudia was looking for my approval or if she was trying to get me to respect her more and become a closer friend, probably the closest she’d ever had. I didn’t want to sound superior and tell her it was okay with me. That would sound too condescending. I struggled to find a way to give her something intimate about myself. She trusted me with her big secret, and I had already admitted to Marcy and her that I did have secrets, too.
“I came close recently,” I began. “I really liked this boy in my school, and I had him over one night when my mother was out on a date. We made out in my bedroom, actually got naked together.”
“How did you stop from going all the way?”
“I didn’t,” I said. “I was going to do it, but he had taken something to get high earlier, and . . .”